


We Need to Talk About Remus

by cyrene



Series: Long Live [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, bc this is sweet i mean, mentions of prejudice in the wizarding world, other than that prepare to have your teeth rotted out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:48:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27704405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyrene/pseuds/cyrene
Summary: In which Remus does a lot of eavesdropping on his eleventh birthday. Oh, and there's the Hogwarts thing.
Series: Long Live [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026196
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	We Need to Talk About Remus

**Author's Note:**

> If I loved Remus Lupin any more, I'd be Sirius Black. For real.

It was just after lunch, and they were making the birthday cake to have after dinner when an unexpected knock came at the door. Remus stopped stirring the batter to look at his mother, who made a silent nod towards the hallway. He nodded back, and headed towards his room without a word.

They had lived in this house for five years without an incident, but his mother always said that it didn’t hurt to be too cautious. Besides, he could basically hear everything from his room anyway, so it’s not like he would miss out if it were something interesting.

He could hear his mother, attempting to sound more pleasant than cautious as she greeted whomever was at the door and asked if she could help them. He couldn’t make out the words of their reply, even though he was practically halfway in the hall.

“Eavesdropping?” his father whispered, poking out of his study.

Remus grinned and shrugged. “Someone’s here.”

“Well, your mother is still chatting with them, so I think we can assume they’re not here to capture a pint-sized werewolf for the reward, can’t we?” his father asked, raising his eyebrows up and tapping Remus on the nose.

Remus wiped at his nose, as if there were something on it. “Maybe they’re very clever,” he replied, still smiling, “and they’re pretending to sell her a new knife set while they secretly have a look around for evidence.”

“Well, I hope you didn’t leave your ‘I’m a Werewolf, Ask Me How’ shirt on the sofa, then. That’ll out us for sure.”

At this point, Mrs. Lupin poked her head down the hallway and frowned at the two of them. “I don’t know what the two of you are playing at, but there’s a man here to see _Remus_. He says he’s from your old school, Lyall.”

Sure enough, there was an old man with a long white beard with just a hint of ginger in it, and absurdly purple wizard robes sitting at their kitchen table with a cup of tea, having been generously granted rank over the bowl of cake batter. He gazed upon his surroundings with an incurious air of serenity, but winked when he noticed Remus staring at him.

“You’re Albus Dumbledore,” the boy said with not a little awe. “I have your chocolate frog card.”

“Indeed. And you must be Remus Lupin. There’s been quite a bit of talk about you lately.” Dumbledore took a polite sip of his tea.

Remus took a step back, so he was next to his father again. “I haven’t done anything,” he insisted softly.

Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m sure you’ve done nothing bad, but nothing at _all_?”

“Well,” Remus hedged, “there was the thing with all the cabbages. But it wasn’t on purpose.”

“Accidental magic happens to the best of us,” Dumbledore assured him with a wave. “All that means is that you’re in need of a good education, so you can learn to control it. Tell me: have you put much thought into your schooling?”

Oh, but Remus had put _very much_ thought into his education, from the moment he was five years old and his parents had been forced to explain to him why he couldn’t go to school with the other children, wizarding or Muggle. All the last six years, when he had diligently studied at this very kitchen table, he had thought about what it might be like to go to a real school.

“You’re the Headmaster at Hogwarts, right?”

Dumbledore nodded. “I am. And I’ve come to personally bring you this letter,” he gestured to an envelope sitting in front of him on the table, “offering you your rightful place there.”

For the first time since he walked into the room, Remus looked away from Dumbledore and at his parents. His mother was frowning like she did when she couldn’t get an answer in the crossword puzzle. He couldn’t read his father’s expression at all, but he could tell it wasn’t pleased.

“I… don’t think I’m allowed,” Remus said slowly, trying to swallow his disappointment, where it stuck in his throat.

“Because you’re a werewolf, you mean?” Remus sucked in a harsh breath, backing up behind his father again, but Dumbledore held out his hands. “It’s nothing against you, just a hurdle to overcome. What if I could make it safe?” he asked. “What if I could give you a secure place to stay on the days you’re… not at your best? And the rest of the days, all the days you’re a perfectly normal wizard boy, you could go to class, and learn with your peers. Would that be something you would be interested in?”

“Well, of course he would be,” Remus’s father said crossing his arms, “but I think the other parents might have something to say about it! They’ll have your job, and my boy’s head.”

Remus thought his dad had a point, and he didn’t know how Dumbledore felt about his job, but Remus was rather attached to his head.

“I wasn’t planning to post a public notice,” Dumbledore replied calmly. “This deal we’re making, it depends very much on Remus’s ability to keep a secret. You will know, and I will know, and your teachers will know, but none of the other students can ever find out. Do you think that’s something you could do?”

Remus, who couldn’t even reasonably imagine what having a friend might be like, nodded. “I can keep a secret. How can you make it safe?”

Dumbledore gestured to the seat across from him, and after only a moment’s hesitation Remus sat. Then Dumbledore told him, in the same sort of voice his parents had used to read storybooks when he was younger, about a vicious tree, and a secret passage, and a haunted house that wasn’t really haunted. Despite the way that makes it sound, Dumbledore wasn’t being condescending or talking to him like a child. He talked to Remus the same way he talked to his parents, the same way he might talk to anybody.

It sounded too good to be true, so Remus wasn’t at all surprised when his mother questioned it.

“From what I know of you wizard folk,” she said slowly, “you don’t take kindly to people like my boy. Lyall has already pointed out that the other parents would react very poorly. Why are you doing this?” she asked. “Why are you willing to risk your job?”

Dumbledore was quiet for a moment. Remus thought that was a good plan, because his mother always liked it when you really gave it thought before you answered her questions.

“As I told Remus, he is a perfectly normal boy every day except one. On that one day, you have all done your very best to make sure he stays safe, and is never in a position to harm anyone. Remus is more than just his affliction, and I believe he deserves the right to an education, just like any other young wizard or witch. In the coming years, Remus will have to choose what kind of man he wishes to be. I would like the opportunity to show him one possibility, one I think he will prefer.”

The Lupins were all silent after this speech. Remus’s parents were having one of their silent conversations, but Remus was still looking at Dumbledore. Dumbledore, from behind his half-moon glasses, calmly held his gaze.

“You don’t think I’m a monster?” he asked, and tried very hard not to hope.

“‘Monster’,” Dumbledore replied, delicately tapping the handle of his teacup with one finger, “is not what a person _is_ , but rather what they _do_. Do you understand the difference?”

“I think so.” The eye contact was becoming unnerving, but he found he could not look away. This was important, somehow, and he needed to be present for it.

“Would you like to come to Hogwarts, Remus?”

Remus could not speak louder than a whisper, but he said, “Very much, sir.”

“I’ve done everything I can to make that happen, but the rest is up to you. I do hope I will see you again in September.” With that, Dumbledore said his goodbyes and left.

If Remus thought that would enable his parents to have a more private discussion with him about the matter, he was sorely mistaken. As soon as they were alone, the first thing his mother said was, “Well, this birthday cake won’t bake itself!” Her cheer was as unnerving as it was false. His father went back to his study to finish his work. Remus, disappointed, began to stir the batter again, and none of his attempts to raise the subject were successful.

Later that night, he lay awake in bed, thinking surely his parents would have to talk about it now, and he was finally rewarded.

“I think we should do it,” his mother said, breaking the silence. “I think we should let him go.”

“It’s not safe, Hope,” his father sighed.

“It’s as safe as life, and I really think he should go. What else are we going to do with him? We can continue to home school him, but he won’t be able to take those tests, so he won’t be able to get a good job later, and he won’t have any friends. He needs _friends_ , Lyall. He needs to be normal as much as he can. We either need to send him to a normal school or a wizard one, but we can’t keep him shut up here any longer.”

“He _isn’t normal_ , though, Hope. How long do you think he can hide it, even if he tries? He’s really smart, and he’s got that mouth of his, and he’s going to get noticed. Someone’s going to figure things out, and then where will we be?”

“So you think it’s better to not try at all, then? Just because something _might_ go wrong?” Remus could hear that she was getting angry, and as sorry as he felt for his father, he was glad his mother was fighting his corner.

“I do.”

“And what about what he wants? He wants to go.”

“He’s _ten_ — eleven, I mean – _eleven_. He wants to stay up all night reading Lord of the Rings for the fiftieth time and eat chocolate cake for breakfast, but we don’t let him do that either.”

“Lyall,” Remus’s mother said in a tone she used very rarely, “Remus has an opportunity to go to a very nice school. He wants to go, and I think we should let him.”

Remus’s father sighed. “Can’t convince you, can I?”

“No, you can’t. I understand it’s a risk, but I think it’s one we’ve got to take.”

Remus’s father sighed again. “Well, I suppose I’d better give in then, so I can have some peace tonight. And so Remus can _stop eavesdropping_ and get some sleep.”

Remus jumped back into bed and curled under the covers, not bothering to be quiet about it now that he knew he was caught out.

He was going to Hogwarts. He was going to learn _magic_ – like, with a _real wand_ that belonged to _him_. He wasn’t going to ruin this, he promised himself. He would make sure he didn’t get noticed. He wasn’t going to be too smart, or too mouthy, or make friends who might figure him out. He would keep his head down and study and be good, and be the _best wizard ever_. And then maybe someday, when he was all grown up, people might figure it out and think that werewolves couldn’t be _so_ bad, if Remus Lupin was one.


End file.
